


We have bad posture, we should bond over it

by peanutbitter



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Crewt - Freeform, I still don't know the name for this shipp, M/M, Newt is a Dork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutbitter/pseuds/peanutbitter
Summary: Newt Scamander is just an introvert boy who happens to have a crush on a boy that is way more introvert than him.Now, as you can imagine, striking a conversation isn't going to be an easy task.Modern setting, high school au.





	1. Keeping quiet helps sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, i have written fics before, but not here and not in english. I'm brazillian, i usually write in portuguese and i don't have a beta reader, so i'm sorry for any mistakes. Also, this is my first fic for Fantastic Beasts and i'm trying to make it a light, funny thing.

Newt Scamander was not a stalker. He was just a very unlucky boy who happened to be interested in another boy who was in every place he went. It was a big prank of the universe; really, Newt had no part in it. It wasn’t his fault that he shared classes with the boy, or that they happened to go to the same café, it just happened. Now, trying to explain that to his friends was the hard part. Tina would give him “the look”, Jacob would raise his eyebrows and Queenie would say a breathy “Oh, sweetie”. Newt, well, he would just try to hide his blush, looking down and laughing.

Credence Barebone was the name. The boy was almost invisible to the whole school, (which didn’t make a lot of sense since he was quite tall) except for the rare times someone would look at him and say something mean. People only talked about Credence to say how weird he was, with his bowl cut and black, shabby clothes. Newt didn’t mind his looks much, since it was one of the things that had caught his attention. Not a lot of cute people had a bowl cut and it was quite weird, but Newt liked the different. Credence had a sad way of walking, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. Newt also had a terrible posture and it made him wonder if that could be something that they would bond over, as an ice breaker. Tina had said he couldn’t go up and tell the other boy that his posture was bad as a way of flirting; he could get the wrong idea. Newt didn’t really knew which wrong idea the boy could get from that, as he thought it was pretty straight forward.

“We have bad posture, we should bond over it.”

But Tina knew things about people, things Newt, as an introvert, didn’t. So he trusted her.

“Do you think I should try saying hello tomorrow, Pickett?” Newt was sitting in his bed, staring at his oblivious lizard, while doing his homework. Well, writing nonsense things in his homework, since he didn’t have an idea of what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t have an idea of how he got to senior year either. “I know I should try. I mean, he won’t bite me, right? Even if he did, it probably wouldn’t be that bad. Couldn’t be worse than that time I was bitten by that dog, the sweet thing.” Pickett closed his eyes and Newt banged his head against his desk. Things would be so easier if he could talk to humans like he could talk to animals.

-

“Tina? I don’t think I can do this.” Tina, who was fidgeting with her sweater sleeves, looked up and let out a breath. They were standing close to Credence’s locker and it their last class had ended some minutes ago. “Newt, you’ve been pining for almost an entire year, don’t you think you should say hi, even if it’s just to get some closure?”

“I’m not pining.”

“No, I am. Of course you’re pining.”

“No, really, I thought I could do this, but now I think I can’t.” Tina raised an eyebrow and said “Then we should get the hell out of here, because he’s almost behind you.”

Newt didn’t have time to panic as he turned, his eyes meeting the pale face of Credence, who looked scared and almost out of place in front of his own locker.

“Hi, Credence…” Newt tried to finish his phrase with a ‘how are you?’, but his voice seemed to fade away. Credence didn’t say anything, just looked down and turned a bit, almost facing his locker.

“Uh, I think we have bad posture and we should bond over it. I’m Newt!” And after babbling the first thing that came to mind, Newt shared a brief look of horror with Tina and paced away from the gaping boy who looked as lost as a fish out of the water.

So, Newt wasn’t really an introvert.

He was a complete inept at talking to anything that could reply him. That included Credence Barebone, who he would never look in the eyes if he could avoid it.


	2. Artist's Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! First, thank you so much for all the comments! It made me really happy!  
> But don't get used to daily updates, though hahaha i'm just excited that it's almost summer break for me.  
> Again, sorry for any mistakes.  
> And Dougal is a cat here :p

There’s at least five ways that Newt copes with shame.

First, search the closest escape route. If there was none, smile and wave like a pageant queen ignoring the redness of his face. The third one is hide under his blankets, but that doesn’t always works, since Dougal, his enormous white cat, liked to sleep there. Newt had to agree that the bed was quite comfortable. The fourth was talking to Pickett and it was also the best one.

The fifth was unusual and rare. Newt wasn’t one to panic. That is, he could get nervous before doing something, like talking to Credence, but he wouldn’t panic for saying something stupid. He would smile and keep talking, sometimes it helped. Now, the fact that he choose to run got him by surprise. Tina, hot on his feet, also had a surprised look adorning her face.

“Do you think I should go back and say something?” he asked, looking behind Tina’s back to the hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of Credence.

“Say what, Newt? That both of you also has terrible taste in clothing?” said Tina, smiling. “Just wait a while and try talking to him again, then apologize for talking to him that way, he probably thought you were making fun of him.”

“So is that why you said talking about our bad posture was a no?”  Tina smiled and placed her hand in his shoulder. “Yes Newt. Now, it was brave of you to talk to him. Maybe it’s enough bravery for today and I think we should get something to eat. I’ll pay you a coffee.”

“Oh no, what is it with you Americans and coffee?”

“I’ll pay you a cappuccino.”

“That’s a deal.” They shook hands while Tina laughed.

They were almost at the café when Tina spoke. “Ah, and coffee is the answer for many people’s problems. You shouldn’t think low of it.”

“Well, up until now it hasn’t solved my problems.”

“That’s because your biggest problems are finding the right food for your pets and talking to Credence. Both of them can only be solved by you. Or the internet. New, do you think Credence has a Facebook profile?”

“I don’t think so, Tina.”

They ordered and, after getting their drinks, proceeded to find a table.

“What do you think he would post if he had one?” Newt stopped for a second, before taking a sip of his coffee. “He enjoys reading. Also, once I saw him carrying some things that looked like art supplies, so he may draw or paint, I don’t know. It could be someone else’s.” But who, he didn’t really know. “He seems to have the hands for it, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Newt. The one who has a crush on him is you; I don’t spend my time observing if Credence has artist’s hands.”

“He does, certainly.” Newt nodded vehemently. “But is there a certain type of hands for an artist? I mean, my neighbor used to draw in the front yard and she had really small hands.”

“Newt, you’re the one who said it as if there was a type of hands for artists only. Stop asking questions out of your exclamations in the middle of coffee, this is the kind of thing you think at 2am when you can’t sleep.”

Newt was about to reply when a sight of black coat caught his eyes. There were a lot of people in black coats, but he always knew when it was Credence inside one of them.

“Oh, Tina, look. He’s here.”

Tina looked behind her back, face blank. “Great, let me see his hand so I can answer you.”

“What? Tina, no, I mean. Should I go there?”

The café wasn’t crowded, but there were enough people around to catch the attention of in case he proceeded to make a fool of himself again. “I should totally go there.”

“Newt, wait-“but he was already up and walking to Credence’s table, chewing on his bottom lip. The boy hadn’t noticed him yet by the time he was standing in front of him.

“Hi Credence” Newt somewhat managed to smile and wave a little with his right hand, the other had a strong grip of the chair’s back in front of him. He watched in awe as Credence’s face took a look of recognition before the boy let out a breathy and quiet “Hi”.

“Can I sit here?” The boy nodded a yes, his gaze fixed on the table where he had a cup of black coffee. ‘How fitting’, Newt thought. “Ah, I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just wanted to talk. I didn’t know how, though. I mean, I know how to talk, I’m talking right now, but. Ah, I can speak, that is. I just have a problem to strike a conversation with people.”

Credence looked a Newt for a second before looking at his coffee, holding it with both of his hands. “It’s okay. I can’t talk, either.” That seemed to take a lot of effort from him, because he let out a breath and took a sip of his cup.

“But we’re talking right now. I think it’s an okay talk.”

Credence said nothing, but looked at Newt again.

“My name is Newt.” He blurted after a while of silence.

“I know.”

“You know?”

“You said. Earlier.”

Ah. Newt didn’t remember saying his name, but he had been nervous after all.

“You know, Credence, I think we should have a coffee sometime, if you want.”

“But aren’t we…?”

Newt smiled. “Not really, since I left my coffee at the other table.”

Credence seemed a bit flustered, but Newt wondered if he was seeing just what he wanted to see.

“That’s okay, I think”

“Can I give you my phone?”

“Ah, yes you can.” Now Newt was sure there was some red in his pale complexion, his brain couldn’t be making that up. It was just too pretty.

So he fetched a pen from his pocket and wrote his number on a napkin. It was quite cliché.

“You should text me, so I can get your number too.”

“Okay, I- I’ll do it. I will.”

They stared at each other awkwardly before Newt smiled and said “I need to go back to my friend.”

Credence moved his mouth a little, as if trying to smile but deciding against it. “Okay, bye Newt.” It was great, to hear him say his name.

“Bye, Credence. Don’t forget to text me.”

“I won’t.” The boy looked down again and fumbled with the napkin.

“So, yeah. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“I- I’ll just go now. Talk to you later.”

Newt almost run back to his table, catching his feet in Tina’s chair and sitting on his own with a loud thud, sending an apologizing look to the manager who was staring intently at him.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m not.”

“Did you get his number?”

“No, but I gave him mine.”

“Hm. He does have artist’s hands, you know?”

“Yes, I saw them up close.”

“Do you think he’ll text?”

“I hope he does.”

“Well, me too, so then you might stop being a lovesick fool.”

“Do you know he smells like cinnamon?”

At that, Tina just rolled her eyes.

 

That night, when he came home, he hold Dougal in his arms and murmured “Dougal, ma got to talk to the boy I told you the other night.”

The cat didn’t share his excitement as he let out a loud mewl and tried to wiggle his way out of Newt’s arms.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, new chapter!  
> :D

Newt had just gotten his night shirt over his head when the first beep sounded in his room. It was almost midnight and he had finished feeding his fish some time ago, but took a while in the shower. He didn’t give much thought to the phone until he remembered that Credence was going to text him. He run as fast as he could, but when he spotted the phone he almost had a heart attack. Niffler had the phone. In his mouth. His kleptomaniac dog had his phone stuck between his teeth.

“Hey boy, come here honey, give the phone to mummy” Newt approached the dog slowly, but sensing what Newt wanted to do, the dog started drifting away from the boy. “Don’t make this to mummy, Niff, please” Ignoring Newt, the dog started running out of the room. Newt took a deep breath before following him down the stairs, around the coach, up to his older brother’s room, out in the hallway and, finally, inside the bathroom where Newt managed to push the phone out of the dong’s mouth. Fortunately, it didn’t break. Unfortunately, it was covered with drool. After cleaning it, Newt opened the text messages. There were two unread.

The first one said ‘Hello’ and nothing else; the second one said ‘It’s Credence.’ Newt almost cried in happiness. He saved Credence’s number with a pink heart besides the name as a new contact, thanking whoever created password protected smartphones.

‘Hi Credence! Thank you so much for hndushgoscfs’

Before he could finish typing his reply, Niffler took his phone away again. “No baby! Don’t do this!” But this time he didn’t need to run much to get the phone back since the dog found some shiny box in the laundry room and left his phone alone.  Newt just hoped that the message hadn’t been sent, but since it was always too much for Newt to hope, the message had been sent. And there was a new one.

‘Is this a bad time? I’m sorry’ Oh Paracelsus, what was Newt going to do? ‘No, it’s a good time as any, I’m sorry about the previous message, but my dog had my phone. He has a fascination with things that shine.’

Finally fixing his shirt and throwing himself in his bed, checking to see if Dougal was there – he wasn’t – he tried to keep his heart calm and don’t freak out over texting Credence.

‘Ah, it’s okay then. That must have been troublesome’ and wasn’t Credence a sweetheart? ‘Just a bit, I’m used to it by now. But how are you?’

‘I’m fine, thank you. And you?’ Newt laughed a bit, unable to control the happiness spreading through his chest so strong that he felt he would suffocate. ‘I’m awesome! What are you doing?’ and to that, Credence replied ‘Talking to you?’ and Newt banged his head against his head board while laughing.

‘Yes, but are you doing anything else? Like watching TV or eating?’

‘Ah. No, it’s a bit late’

‘Oh, are you tired?’ Newt really wanted to talk more, but if the boy was tired he would’t keep him up.

‘A bit’ well, it _was_ late. ‘Go to sleep then, we can talk sometime later’

‘Okay, goodnight Newt’

‘Goodnight, Credence. Sleep well’

‘Thank you, you too’

‘Thanks!’

And that was it. Yep, Newt had really texted Credence at midnight. That seemed so impossible some days ago, but now Newt just felt so happy. He finally was able to make some contact and it seemed to be easier for both of them to talk over texts. Even if Newt really liked Credence’s soft voice.

That night, he slept with a smile on his face.

+

“Do you think it would taste good if I used honey on it?” Jacob and Queenie were, once again, discussing food. They liked to sit outside on lunch break, the cafeteria too crowded. Tina was reading a book while drinking some weird green juice and Newt was staring into space.

“If you do try honey on it, I want to taste it too” Newt commented, looking around.

“Hey Scamander, I’m not giving you anything to eat until you explain what’s going on with you and your crush” Jacob said, smiling while Queenie laughed a bit and joined him on his ‘tell me’ stare.

“What? There’s nothing going on!”

“He talked to him yesterday, gave him his phone and everything” said Tina without looking up from her book.

“Tina! It’s true, though. I have his number now. And we texted, but Niffler messed it up a bit, he got my phone”

“Thank the heavens your mom isn’t fond of jewelry or that dog would be all over it”

“Jacob, forget the dog. Newt, what did you talk about?” Queenie asked expectant.

“Not much, just ‘how are you?’ and ‘what are you doing?’ this kind of thing. It was late” But Newt was now looking at the entrance to the hall, where a tall boy was standing, holding a cup and an apple.

“Credence!” Newt was quick to stand and wave his arms over his head to get Credence’s attention. When the boy noticed him, Newt got off the table and went to where he was. “Credence, do you want to eat with us?” at the question, Credence seemed a little put off. “But they’re your friends.”

“Yes, they are! They’re okay, wouldn’t mind it” but the boy didn’t seem convinced.

“Uh, is it okay if I sit with you then?” Newt asked. Credence nodded and his lips lifted a bit at the corners. “I’ll just get my stuff then, why don’t you get a table?” and he run back to his friends, taking his things as quick as possible while explaining the situation. He managed to leave with just one ‘good luck, lover boy’ from Jacob and soon he was in front of Credence again.

“So, I’m really sorry about my dog, it was true what happened”

“I didn’t think you were lying”

“Oh thank you, most people don’t believe when those things happens” Newt smiled at Credence and picked some fries.

“I don’t see a reason for you to lie about that”

“Yes, that’s cause there isn’t, but some people are just annoying” Credence just nodded and took a bite of his apple.

“I’m really happy that you texted me”

“Me too” he seemed shy while saying those words and there was some redness creeping up his face.

“I’m glad. So, do you have any hobbies?”

“Well, I draw and paint sometimes” He placed his hands over the table, still looking down.

“That’s really great. I can’t draw to save my life, but I like pets”

Credence finally looked up and gave Newt a small smile.

“Your dog, right”

“Not just the dog. There’s also a cat, a lizard, a fish and a bird”

At that, Credence made a surprised face before smiling. “That’s a lot of pets”

“Yes, well, I have a lot of love to give them, so. Oh, that sounded cheesy, right?”

“No, it’s- it’s cute. I wish I could have a pet”

“You never had any?”

“No, I- I wasn’t allowed. I am now, though” He said the last part like a whisper, almost as if talking to himself.

“You should come over sometime; I could show them to you”

“Really?” He looked surprised at hearing Newt.

“Yes! I would love to show them to you”

“Thank you, it would be great”

They shared a smile and, for a moment, Newt felt as if it was just them and no one else in that place. That is, until the bell rung and Newt let out a groan.

“Oh, I wish this would be over soon” Credence smiled again, it was the most Newt had ever seen him smile, before getting up slowly.

“I’ll be going now”

“Yeah, I should too. Bye, Credence!”

“Bye, Newt”

“Hey, is it okay if I text you later?”

“Yes, it is”

And Newt watched, smiling, as Credence went back inside the school.

“Look at his face, Queenie”

“It’s lovely, don’t you think?”

His friends shooed him back to the school, laughing and Newt couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t want to.

 

 

 


	4. I'm a Mess

Over the days, Newt was happy to say that Credence was warming up. He talked more and even smiled without looking down sometimes. They had started to sit together every day along with Newt’s friends and though Credence didn’t always say much to them, Newt could see that the boy enjoyed the company, because those times were when he seemed to smile a little wider.

The first time Credence came over to Newt’s house was on a Saturday. Newt showed him around awkwardly, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets – he didn’t even know those jeans had them – and a smile on his face. Credence seemed a bit out of place and gave a surprised yelp when Niffler came running in the room.

“That’s my dog, but I don’t believe you’ll meet him properly now since he probably went to destroy the garden again. Do you want to meet my other pets, though?” and Credence just nodded in response, but his face was a bit red as they made their way upstairs and into Newt’s room.  As Newt expected, Dougal was sprawled in his bed, Pickett was in his glass habitat and Frank in his stand, looking as bored as ever.

Also, _his room was a mess_.

There were clothes pilled in a corner, his bed wasn’t made (he didn’t see reason for it until now), his books strewn across his desk and one of his socks was stuck to his window. He didn’t know how, though.

“So, this is my room. I hope you don’t mind the mess. That thing in the bed is Dougal, my cat. I mean, you can see it’s a cat; I didn’t need to say that it is a cat” Newt kept rambling while picking up some clothes from the floor and taking the sock out of the window, only stopping when he heard a muffed sound coming from behind him. Then, the sound wasn’t so muffed anymore and Credence had bloomed into a full body, shaking shoulders laugh. His eyes were closed and his hands were wiping tears from his face. It was a sight Newt wanted to imprint behind his eyelids so he could always see it.

“Credence, are you alright?”

The boy didn’t reply immediately, taking some time to regain his breath and calm down.

“I’m okat, thank you”

Newt motioned for him to sit at his bed before grabbing his desk chair and sitting in front of the other boy. “I didn’t know you thought my rambling was so funny” Newt watched as Credence’s cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink while he fussed over his hands.

“Oh no, it’s just that your cat was showing me his tongue. It was so funny, I didn’t knew cats did that”

“Oh, did he? Dougal, that’s so rude of you!” Newt said in a playful tone, petting the cat that had joined Credence at the end of the bed. Credence raised a hand slowly and, after a look in Newt’s direction, let it fall over Dougal’s head, scratching at the back of his ears.

“His fur is so soft” Credence said as a smile slowly spread over his face.

“Yes, he’s very proud of it!”

As Newt looked at Credence interact with Dougal, he felt warmth spread over his chest for seeing the boy so happy and natural, not hiding or trying to drown in the sea of students back at school. He knew he had a crush, but at that moment he felt something a little bit stronger. He slowly led his hand close to Credence’s in a ghost of a touch and, after some hesitation, let it fall and hold it into his own.

“Credence?” the other boy had tensed a little, but seemed to relax again after Newt said his name. “Yeah?”

“I’m really happy you’re here” and as he said that, Newt leaned in and, slowly, kissed Credence’s cheek, just a little peck. He returned to his previous position, feeling his face darken just like Credence’s.

“Me too”

They smiled knowing at each other and Newt let out a breathy laugh as Dougal gently bit his hand to get attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's short, i know it's been a long time since my last update, but school is over <3 so i'll write more and probably have another chapter at the weekend  
> anyways, if it seems rushed, sorry, but i'm planning on this being a short fic


	5. Through My Eyes

Credence knew what people called him behind his back.

_Freak_

By now, he had to admit he was used to it and the word had lost all effects it once held in him. But before, when he still lived in the orphanage and then with Mary Lou Barebone, just hearing it triggered something strong deep inside of him. It made him see red with rage and break things. Back then, they used to say he had anger management issues, but Credence didn’t feel mad all the time, and he didn’t feel like destroying things every time he got mad, just when he heard that damned word.

Mary Lou Barebone came when he was 7 and he stayed with her until he was 12. She spoke proudly at church on how she was able to expulse the demon that lived inside that little boy’s body. Then, she would praise God for giving her strength to do so, since she couldn’t be too proud, for those who were good Christian people wouldn’t do something like that. The only thing she never spoke about at church was how she managed such a feat.

Credence still held proof, though. And in his body, no less, where scars marred his hands and back and part of his thighs. Mary Lou believed that the bad could only be taken off by hand, through the pain and endless hours of prayers where he wasn’t allowed to eat anything besides porridge. In truth, he wasn’t allowed to eat many different things. Good Christian people lived with no more than the required to survive.

That was all she was about, being a good Christian. Credence wondered which god approved of beatings now, but as a child he would just take it. He had to be grateful he had a home, food and clothes, he heard it every day. He was homeschooled, not allowed to play outside; they didn’t have a TV either. He wasn’t allowed much besides reading the bible.

Credence thought of those years as being half alive. He lived there for 5 years before one of the beatings was just a tad too much, when for a second he forgot to hold his screams and the pain was just a little stronger, just a little more unbearable. A call was made by a neighbor, a woman appeared and he went from Mary Lou’s house to a new foster family. The thing was that those actually took a liking to him.

Dora and Matthew Jones was an old couple that couldn’t have children of their own and had taken a liking to Credence.  At 12, he didn’t know much about how he should act in front of other people since he never had much reason to interact with them. But as much as he was wary of that new house, he was also happy. He could never see Mary Lou as a mother and he hoped that a new house meant no more beatings.

He had new clothes now, not hand-me-downs; he could eat different foods and sleep in on weekends. He could watch TV and learn new things and go to school. School, though, wasn’t something he was thrilled to have. The kids were no better, the teachers turned a blind eye to abuse and most classes were boring. But school did give him something to be happy about, that being art class. His teacher seemed to be crazy and was always talking about “letting your inner animal spirit express themselves through the arts”. Somedays were annoying as they got dirty with clay, but some of them where amazing, the ones he got to learn how to draw and color and paint. Mr. Jones was quite happy when he, very shyly, asked if he could buy some supplies with his allowance – yes, he had one of those now – and even offered his old easel for Credence’s use. He got closer to the man because of it, since he was always interested in seeing if Credence was making use of the easel. He, too, enjoyed art, but couldn’t paint anymore for he trembled too much. Mrs. Jones thought it was fun to find a 12 year old boy and a senior man talk about art so passionately, but brought them hot chocolate anyway. Somedays she would sit beside them and read a book. Credence thought they were nice, then. He was right.

School didn’t get better, but his life was comfortable now. He couldn’t ignore, though, the years that came before this new life and he wasn’t so naïve as to expect he would forget about them entirely or pretend they didn’t happen. They did and, sometimes, he woke up from a nightmare where his hands bled and his eyes burned from the tears he had to hold in. He couldn’t talk to strangers without making a fool of himself and he still walked as if his back was in pain, as if he had to hide from Mary Lou’s critic gaze.

Then, sometime ago, came Newt out of nowhere.

At first, Credence thought he was making fun of him, purposefully talking about his posture as to make him feel bad. But no, Newt was also talking about his terrible posture – as if Credence could talk – and trying to get close to him for whatever reason. He came to talk again at the café and they even shared their phones.

After Credence sent the first message it just seemed like they wouldn’t stop talking. Newt was everywhere and did most of the talking, but Credence was happy. He had a great voice and always cared to ask what Credence thought of things and listened when he talked, even if he didn’t speak loud enough sometimes and he introduced him to his friends that were nice people and said funny things. Newt just seemed to enjoy Credence’s presence for what it was. It made Credence feel as if his chest would burst open from happiness. Newt was his first friend and he wanted to treasure him, treasure this feeling. So he did what he was best at.

He made art. He drew Newt’s nose and hands and freckles, he painted his eyes and his copper hair and that old blue coat he liked so much. Though he couldn’t talk properly or hold conversations like other people, he knew he was great at expressing himself through art and his works of Newt showed more feelings than he was aware he felt. At that moment, he knew he couldn’t let the other boy see them. He did not want his feelings coming to light, Newt was too good to be mean to him and he couldn’t stand seeing a pitying look in those eyes being directed at him. Newt wanted friendship.

Newt couldn’t know about his feelings, because Newt wouldn’t like him back.

 


	6. Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want this to feel rushed, but this story is coming to an end. It was always planned to be a short fic and i don't want to drag it. It's just two silly guys falling in love. Maybe i'll do a slow burn some other day (slow burns are my favorites), but not right now.

Sometimes, when he was with Newt, Credence felt like he would combust. He would be there, sitting beside the other guy, and then his heart would burn out and he would explode, his blood all over the floor. It was a very morbid thought, except for the times that instead of blood, there would be butterflies, because those were always eating his stomach away, trying to break free. Credence didn’t really want to free them.

He was in Newt’s room once again. After the first time, it became natural to spend time at the other boy’s house. Now, he sat in Newt’s bed with his back against the headboard, browsing the Netflix catalogue, another thing he didn’t knew before meeting Newt. Dougal was half laying in his lap, half falling off his lap. His warmth was pleasant and relaxing, which was great for Credence, who was kind of panicking for being so close to Newt.

“We could watch nightmare before Christmas” Newt said, lying down with a fluffy pillow under his head. “Again? Didn’t we watch it last week?” Newt just laughed and hugged a pillow close to his body. “No, we watched the corpse bride”

So Credence found the movie Newt suggested and they watched half of it, before Newt fell asleep. That was something usual, they would start a movie and then Newt would sleep. He wondered if the other boy got enough sleep at night and always worried about him. Newt could get distracted and forget to eat or sleep and it wasn’t something that Credence enjoyed, so he let the other boy take his nap. This time, though, Credence’s body was feeling lethargic and he slowly fell asleep too.

He didn’t knew for how much time he slept, but when he woke up Newt had a hand on his hair and was caressing it slowly and carefully, though he stopped it when Credence moved to get comfortable.

“Hey there” he said, his voice raspy. “Hi” Credence’s own voice was different, lower than usual. “Do you come here often?” At that, he couldn’t hold back his laugh “No, it’s your bed. I just hang around when I’m welcome” Newt closed his eyes, moving his hand on Credence’s hair again. “Hm. You are always. Welcome, I mean”

And there they were, the butterflies, trying to come out of Credence’s body through his mouth once again, and the prickling on his skin.  “Or so you say”

“I’m not lying, you know. You’re one of my best friends now. I know I don’t talk much about it and, most days, it doesn’t bother me. But people don’t usually stick around me for long. It’s always that I’m weird, aloof or that my older brother is better company. I know they think I’m stupid, so I’m happy you don’t. Even if I scared you that first time, you gave me a chance”

Credence wanted to reply. He wanted to say that Newt was an amazing person, that he could love better than anyone and that his pets were proof of that, that he was smart his own way, that he was the best of all the best friends in the world, that he was beautiful and unique. He had also been the first person to give Credence a chance and he would always be grateful.

But he couldn’t, so he didn’t say anything.

“It’s true. And you even did those drawings!”

At that, Credence got up. “Drawings? W-what are you talking about?” Newt looked confused and his eyes weren’t meeting Credence’s. “The ones of me that you left here last time”

So that was what Newt would do, let him down gently. He must know now and it was Credence’s own bloody fault. He had forgotten the drawings last time he was here and Newt looked at them. He couldn’t stop the tears that prickled his eyes when they started running down his cheeks, little half sobs escaping his lips every second or so.

“Credence, what is wrong? Did I do something, why are you crying?”

But Credence only cried harder, his arms coming to circle his body for protection, his head down. Newt’s hands came to rest upon his own, rubbing them slowly. “Credence, why are you crying?”

Before he could stop himself, Credence murmured “Because I’m in love with you” and then bolted out of the bed while searching for his coat and backpack. “You know now, you saw the drawings, so there’s no need to act like you don’t mind, it’s my fault, I know it”

But Newt wasn’t talking and Credence couldn’t understand. He found his backpack, but before he could grab it, Newt got his hands on his arms and turned him around. “Credence, calm down. I’m not mad at you”

“But you saw the drawings”

“I did, no one ever drew my freckles like that. Hell, no one ever drew me. But I’m not mad, I loved them”

“Why, though? You should, you know?”

“I’m not mad because I’m in love with you too”

Credence’s head snapped up so fast his neck might as well have brake. Newt eyes were shining and he was smiling. His hair was a mess and his face a bit red with marks from the pillows. “I just thought you should know, this way we can both be embarrassed together”

And he leaned down a little, letting his lips touch Credence’s in a soft caress.  

 


End file.
